


Qotsisajak

by dynata



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dark Side Rey, F/M, Jedi Ben Solo, Sith Rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:15:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dynata/pseuds/dynata
Summary: At the head of the First Order is a dark, cruel figure, one who rules through fear, who is prone to vicious anger, and who is intent on tracking down and destroying the last Jedi.Her name is Kira Ren.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Qotsisajak

In a cavern deep beneath the surface of the planet Exegol, the girl known as Kira Ren is deep in meditation. 

She floats several feet off the ground, long legs folded elaborately beneath her, dark robes billowing with the currents of some unseen power. The floor beneath her vibrates and hums in a deep, grating harmony, and the red veins in the black stone of the cavern are lit with a pulsing glow. Before her hovers a small prism, carved of darkest obsidian.

Her dark hair is pulled into a severe bun, the flickering light highlighting the sharpness of her cheekbones and the ghost of a scowl etched across her face. Her skin is pale, almost startlingly so. She frowns, furrowing her finely arched brows. She is looking for something.

Not something. _Someone_. A shadow of a presence at the corner of her perception, like a missing note in the symphony of the Force, almost admirable in its subtlety. It has been troubling her for some days now, and if she can just reach a little further, she knows that they will be completely at her mercy.

The Force is her birthright and her blood, an ocean of power surging to her every command. She can command most human minds from across the sector. However, an unknown Force user on the other side of the galaxy is, unfortunately, a bit trickier. She grits her teeth and calls on the focusing power of the scrying room. She feels it sharpen her gaze, and surges on, pulling from the well of force energy in her holocron. She lets her rising frustration feed into the swirl of her power. Exhilaration building, she breathes deep, brings her mind to a place of focused intensity. A woman's voice whispers in her memory. “ _The eye of the storm, darling. That’s it._ ” 

With singular precision, she seeks out the offending presence, the muted absence of the traces of an unknown power in the Force. She senses it in traces and then in clusters, and draws nearer. They must be dreaming because their shields are just slightly lowered, and she slips in through the gaps, catches a glimpse of ocean blue and mossy stone before sensing a rush of panic and then the uncomfortable _push_ of mental shields being raised just moments too late. She coils her power under their defenses, letting her presence in their mind build to an unbearable force before dissolving it into a cloud of gentle, insistent whispers that slipped in like smoke to the deepest and most secret parts of them.

She opens her hazel eyes, startlingly warm against the pallor of her skin and the sneer of victory on her lips. At the same moment, galaxies apart, his dark eyes open—it was a _he_ , this nuisance, and somehow _familiar_ —staring out at stone and ocean, a wall of fabric and a doorway framing an elderly man, and she hears his voice crying out, “Uncle!”, before a surge of power suffuses her mind and everything goes white.

She drops to the floor with a huff, and stays seated, head bowed, as the light dims to darkness and the obsidian holocron floats gently to the floor before her. Once her breathing returns to normal, she stands to leave.

Grandfather will be most interested to hear what she has seen. 


End file.
